So Happy
by Sleeves
Summary: Tweek really does make Craig sooo happy. Craig's just an ass sometimes. Craig x Tweek.


**So Happy**

—

Tweek lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the cursing coming from the kitchen. He rolled over, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. His tired, sleep-deprived brain processed the situation slowly. Craig was exhausted and late for work. Craig was angry and cursing in the kitchen. Tweek rubbed his eyes and made a mental note to avoid Craig at all costs.

He climbed gingerly out of bed, careful not to make too much noise. Getting in Craig's way when he was angry was always a bad thing.

Tweek took small, quiet steps on his way to the bathroom, trying not to attract attention to himself. This proved to be useless, because before he'd made it halfway across the hall, Tweek felt eyes on him. A spasm of fear froze him in his tracks, and he whirled around, his eyes wide and scared. Craig was watching him, scowling. They looked at each other for a long moment, Craig sizing Tweek up and Tweek shaking on the spot.

After a long pause, Tweek murmured, "H-have a good day," keeping his eyes on the ground.

Craig's eyes narrowed, sweeping up and down Tweek's body and coming to a stop when they reached Tweek's face. His mouth twisted in disgust.

"God, Tweek. Why don't you fucking take care of yourself?"

Tweek flinched, suddenly conscious of his mess of hair, the bags under his eyes, his uncontrollable twitching, the mismatched buttons on his shirt, his shaking hands, the fear in his own wide, sleepless eyes, and he said the only thing he could think of.

"Agh! I'm—I'm sorry."

Craig just let out a disgusted sigh, turning and heading to the door.

"Bye, Craig," Tweek murmured, half-raising a trembling hand in farewell.

Craig didn't acknowledge him, and the door clicked shut, leaving Tweek alone in their small apartment. He crawled back into bed and cried into his shirt until his eyes hurt. He clutched the fabric in his shaking fists, feeling like ripping out every improperly fastened button. There was so much wrong with him, and Craig had been having a hard time at work lately. The least Tweek could do was make him happy at home. He was angry with himself, angry for not being able to make Craig happy.

But if Craig came home to a sobbing, twitching mess, it would only make him angrier, so Tweek collected himself, wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, and headed into the bathroom.

His eyes were huge and red-rimmed and scared looking as he examined himself in the mirror. The first thing that needed taking care of was his hair, so Tweek showered until the water was freezing and he was shaking more than usual. Even with all the scrubbing he'd done, he still felt impure. He still felt not good enough for Craig. He really wanted to please Craig, to earn one of Craig's brilliant smiles and hear Craig say, "You make me _so _happy." He hadn't said that to Tweek in a long time.

So Tweek shut off the water and shivered in the bathroom for a good twenty minutes, wrapped up in his towel until the water was warm again. He took another long shower and scrubbed at his skin until it turned red, hoping to wash off everything Craig hated about him. He showered a third time after this, finally feeling clean as he dried off his body and fluffed his hair with his towel. He shuffled through the drawers in the bathroom until he found a comb and proceeded to fight against the tangled blond mess on his head. But no matter how hard Tweek tried, his hair always stuck up at funny angles. It was cleaner and shinier than usual, but it was still _ugly_.

Tweek glared at his reflection before rooting through the drawers again in a desperate attempt to find something that would help tame his hair. The only useful things he could find were a couple of hair clips that probably belonged to the people who rented the place before he and Craig had moved in. Standing naked in the bathroom except for the towel wrapped around his waist, Tweek spent ages carefully separating tufts of hair and clipping them flat. Each attempt took several tries because he was shaking so badly.

After the worst bits of sticking-up hair had been neatened up, Tweek examined himself in the mirror, wondering what Craig would think. Once he decided there was nothing more he could do to fix his hair, he headed back into their bedroom to get dressed.

His hands were still shaking worse than ever. Usually he would just try to fit his shirt buttons anywhere, but today Tweek made sure they matched up correctly. He bit his lip and narrowed his eyes, concentrating only on buttoning his shirt and fighting off spasms, trying to keep his hands steady as possible. When he was done, Tweek admired himself proudly in the mirror and allowed himself a weary smile before heading into the kitchen to make some coffee.

The coffee helped calm him down. His frequent jitters subsided a little, and after his second cup Tweek was far more relaxed than he'd been earlier that morning.

He eyed the clock. Craig wouldn't be home for several more hours. Tweek nibbled his thumbnail, wondering what he should do while he waited. He made the bed, checked his reflection in the mirror, folded his laundry, took another look in the mirror, made another cup of coffee, peeked at his reflection again, wondered what Craig would think.

Tweek started to get irritated at himself obsessing over what Craig would think about him. But he wanted Craig to love him, and he wanted to make Craig happy. Craig told him to take care of himself, so he did. Tweek smoothed down his hair for the hundredth time and looked at the clock.

The day passed quicker than usual, and Tweek became increasingly nervous for Craig's return with each hour that ticked away. Six o'clock came too fast, and before Tweek could figure out where all the hours in the day had gone, he was making dinner for Craig.

His heart sank as he peered in the kitchen cabinets, scanning the dinner possibilities. They had hardly anything substantial to eat. He would have gone to get groceries, but Craig got angry whenever Tweek left the apartment alone. So he let out a soft groan of dismay and decided that making spaghetti was a little classier than making instant noodles.

"Spaghetti, ergh—instant noodles…it's really the same thing if you think about it," Tweek murmured to himself, hoping Craig would be okay with spaghetti for dinner. He was just shutting off the stove when he heard the door open.

Tweek jumped and let out a soft squeak, whirling around as anxiety sped his pulse to twice its usual rate. He pressed a hand to his hair to make sure it was okay, and then he scurried to the door to welcome Craig home.

Craig looked drained, but not angry. Tweek tugged at his shirt, eyeing Craig nervously. The buttons were all done up right, he reminded himself, and as bizarre as it seemed, the thought gave him courage to speak.

"Hey, Craig," he said, offering a tentative smile.

"Hey Tweek." Craig didn't look at him. He stepped past Tweek and headed into the kitchen.

Tweek followed him like a submissive dog. "I made dinner."

"Uh huh." Again, he didn't sound angry—just tired.

Tweek set plates for them, sitting down across from Craig and playing with his fork, watching Craig's face intently. Craig glanced up from his plate, cocked an eyebrow at Tweek, and then dropped his gaze and started to eat.

Still keeping his eyes on Craig, Tweek picked at his dinner without really eating much of anything. He didn't feel hungry at all, and he didn't know if Craig's odd silence was a good or bad sign. He was a bundle of nerves, almost screaming with tension when Craig said, "So. Uh. What the hell did you do to yourself, Tweek?"

He was looking at Tweek, curiosity rather than anger in his eyes. Tweek relaxed a little, continuing to poke at his plate with his fork.

"Well, I—y-you said I should take care of myself, so I did." Tweek fidgeted uncomfortably, his eyes darting back and forth from the tabletop to Craig's face.

The sound of chair legs scraping against the tiled floor jerked Tweek's eyes up. Craig was standing, gesturing for Tweek to follow him.

"C'mere."

Tweek obediently rose to his feet, still shaking. Craig led the way into their bedroom and pointed at the bed. "Sit."

Tweek sat, looking up at Craig with wide eyes.

"Tweek?"

"Gah! Jesus, what!"

"Tweek, you look ridiculous."

"I do!"

Craig smiled, and Tweek's breath hitched. "Yes."

He felt Craig's hand in his hair, felt Craig pull out one of the hair clips. Craig held it up in front of Tweek, giving the twitching blond a bemused smile.

"Tweek, why'd you mess up your hair?"

"I—ugh! I didn't mess it up, I _fixed _it!"

Craig removed the rest of the clips one by one, until Tweek's hair was its usual mess of haphazard spikes. He ruffled it for good measure, and then he dropped his gaze to Tweek's shirt.

"Jesus Christ, Tweek."

"Ergh!" Tweek tugged at his shirt, feeling like a nervous mouse under Craig's stare.

"Lemme fix that for you." Before Tweek could protest, Craig leaned in and kissed him, running his hands over the fabric of Tweek's shirt until he found the top button. Tweek gasped against Craig's lips, and Craig unfastened the first button.

"B-but Craig," Tweek stammered, withdrawing as Craig undid the second button, "I thought—"

"Tweek, shut up," Craig murmured, kissing him again as his fingers nimbly unbuttoned Tweek's shirt. The fabric hung limply around Tweek's thin shoulders as Craig unfastened the last button, exposing a sliver of pale flesh. Tweek shivered, but it wasn't because he was cold, and it wasn't because he was running on too much caffeine.

"You tried really hard, huh?"

Tweek nodded dumbly.

"God, you're so cute." Tweek shuddered. Craig hadn't told him that in a long time. "Hey, Tweek? About this morning…"

"I know." Tweek knew Craig was sorry. Craig never meant anything he said when he was angry. "I-it's okay."

Craig looked relieved, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Tweek's forehead. Tweek smiled shyly, looking away. Even though his plan to make Craig happy by fixing himself up had failed miserably, Tweek kept smiling until Craig spoke again.

"So can I finish undressing you?"

"JESUS CHRIST! Agh! I mean yes!" Tweek looked as if he was about to pee himself, still trembling violently. "Jesus, don't say stuff like that, man!"

"Right, next time I'll just undress you without any warning," Craig said, unzipping Tweek's jeans.

"Oh god!" Tweek yelped, grabbing two fistfuls of yellow hair and pulling until his head hurt. "Oh _Jesus!_"

Sex was _way _too much pressure.


End file.
